“They’d have heard the helicopter if they were,” he answered quickly. “Anyway,” he continued, pointing at Harte, “he turned up, didn’t he.”
“So why are you still here?” Cooper asked, keen to get the conversation back on track.
“Did you see the petrol station?”
“What petrol station?”
“Exactly. I torched a petrol station to distract the dead so that the truck could get away. Only I did the job a little too well. Blew the fuck out of the place. The size of the explosion took me by surprise, and I got caught on the wrong side of it. By the time I’d come around and managed to get back to the mall, the rest of them were long gone.”
“Jesus,” Richard said under his breath. “So you were stuck out here?”
“That’s about it. I found a safe place in what was left of the mall, so I stayed there for a while. Eventually I moved on.”
“And it never crossed your mind to try and get back to the castle?” Cooper asked, sounding less than convinced.
“It crossed my mind,” Harte answered quickly, “of course it did, but it wasn’t that easy. There was the weather for a start, then the bodies. And the distance too. You couldn’t walk it.”
“You could have taken a car, there are plenty lying around. You could have cycled there, come to that.”
“I didn’t want to take the risk. I figured that even if I managed to make it back to the castle, there was no guarantee they’d let me in. They probably wouldn’t even see me for a start.”
“You could have yelled at them to open up. Surely they’d have heard you with everything else so quiet.”
“Yeah, and so would the dead. They couldn’t get right up to the castle walls, but there were still thousands of them hanging around back there. Tens of thousands, probably. I couldn’t have fought my way through that lot on my own.”
The conversation faltered. For a moment the only sounds were occasional creaks from the vessel and the lapping of the waves against its hull. Michael had been quiet, watching the conversation from across the cabin.
“Forgive me, Ian,” he said. “I know we’ve only just met, and I might be making a hell of a presumption here, but everything you’ve just told us is a load of bollocks, isn’t it?”
“Come on, Mike,” Harry protested. “That’s a bit harsh, isn’t it?”
“You think?”
“No,” Harte said, “I swear. We were here looting, I blew up the petrol station and—”
“Oh, I don’t doubt that,” Michael interrupted. “It’s everything since then that I have a problem with. How long ago did all this happen?”
“About two weeks ago, why?”
“Because you would have got back by now if you’d really wanted to, I know I would. You planned to stay out here on your own, didn’t you?”
Harte looked down into his beer,up at the others again.
“So what if I did? What difference does it make? I made a choice, that’s all.”
“What choice?” Donna asked.
Another hesitation.
“Okay, I’ll admit it. There was never a plan. I don’t know if I really made a conscious decision or whether I bottled it or just made a stupid mistake. I’d been stuck with those fuckers for weeks, and I was sick of all the fighting and arguing. I don’t know what you lot are like, but even though there are hardly any of us left alive, the group mentality gets a bit suffocating, you know? Whether you’re with five people or five hundred, you always seem to end up with some cocky fucker who thinks they’re in charge, and you know it’s only a matter of time before things turn ugly. That’s why we were fucked over at the hotel, and that’s what I could see happening again at the castle.”
“So there’s a cocky fucker like that back there?”
“At least two, with a few more waiting in the wings. There’s Jackson, the guy who found the place, then there’s Jas.”
“Jas?”
“I’d been with him virtually since day one. He was always a good guy, but I’d been starting to think our time trapped in the hotel sent him a little stir-crazy. Him and Jackson were constantly at each other’s throats, and I could just see things heading down that same old slippery slope again. So I took a leaf out of Driver’s book and did a runner.”
“So what’s it actually like at this castle?” Cooper asked.
“Basic, but pretty good, all things considered,” Harte admitted.
“Twenty-one people, you say?”
“Twenty now.”
“Supplies?”
“They should have enough to get them through the winter, assuming the truck got back, that is.”
“And the bodies are held at a safe distance?”
“The place is built on a rise, so they physically can’t get up to it. There’s an access road leading up to the main gate that some of them manage to get up, but they’re nothing that can’t be handled with a couple of vehicles and a little brute force. Anyway, what about this island of yours?” he asked, keen to redirect the conversation. “Many bodies left there?”
“None,” Richard told him. “We cleared them all out when we first arrived.”
“You cleared them out? All of them? Jesus, how many was that?”
“Three or four hundred, give or take.”
“So you’ve got plenty of room?”
“Loads of space. Why, are you trying to hitch a lift now?”
“Wouldn’t say no,” Harte immediately said, needing no time to think about his answer.
“Just one thing before you get too carried away,” Cooper said ominously, “and I don’t want to piss on your parade or anything, but this is important. Whatever your real reasons for being out here alone are, we can’t ignore the people back at the castle. There’s no reason why you can’t come back with us, but we need to make the same offer to them too.”
“Sounds reasonable,” Michael said. “The more the merrier.”
“I’m not sure about this,” Harte said. “They think I’m dead. When they find out I ran out on them, they’ll have my balls. Jas will go fucking mental.”
“You reckon?” Cooper asked. “I think you’re the one holding all the trump cards. From where I’m sitting, you’re in a much better position than you think.”
“And how do you work that out?”
“Well, when you turn up there tomorrow morning in a helicopter and offer to help whisk them all away to a place where there are no bodies and where they’ll be completely safe, they’ll think you’re the best fucking thing since sliced bread.”
“Sliced bread—remember that?” Richard said to himself, laughing sadly.
“You don’t know that,” Harte protested, sounding increasingly nervous. “You don’t know how they’ll react.”
“True,” Cooper admitted. “You’re absolutely right, I don’t know for sure. But here’s the deaclass="underline" we’ll give it a try and if things don’t work out, I promise we’ll get you out of there and over to Cormansey with us. It’s either that or you go back to wherever you’ve been hiding in the morning and crawl back under your rock. You’ll end up spending the rest of your life on your own, though, picking through the bones of what’s left of this place.”
Harte didn’t say anything. He sank farther back into his seat and reached for another bottle of beer, knowing full well that he had little choice but to go back to the castle in the morning.
24
Harte’s guts were churning. It could have been for any number of reasons: the fact he was in a helicopter, hundreds of meters above the ground, perhaps? Or maybe it was because he was hungover from all the beer and wine he’d drunk last night. Then again, it might have just been the nervousness he felt at the prospect of returning to the castle—returning from the grave—and facing Jas and the others again after being away from them for weeks. Most likely it was a combination of those factors. He kept his head bowed and focused on the floor between his feet, trying not to think about anything.